


Discretion is the better part of valour

by samchandler1986



Category: GLOW (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 07:17:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16259333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samchandler1986/pseuds/samchandler1986
Summary: prompt: Sam and Ruth caught in the rain!! thanks![Kind of a sequel to Rebound Guy, but will stand alone]





	Discretion is the better part of valour

Ruth is fiddling with the straps of her rucksack outside the casino front doors when Jenny spots her. “So, Ruth,” she says, coming over to bump elbows. “What are _you_ going to do with your week of freedom?”

“Oh,” Ruth replies, smiling awkward. “Home. Haven’t seen my parents in a while, so…”

“Oh my God. Back to Omaha?”

“Mm-hm.”

“I’m so sorry. I’ll be thinking of you.” Jenny looks genuinely horror-struck, putting a sympathetic hand on Ruth’s shoulder.

“It’s not _that_ bad,” she replies, smile tightening. “There’s, you know, a great zoo. And – and the market.” Jenny’s expression continues to be best described as funereal _._ “Um, so what are _you_ doing?”  

“Oh, we’re going to Crystal Cove.”

“We?”

“Me, Carmen, Rhonda and Melrose. Road trip!”

“That sounds fun.”

“Oh, it is going to be _majorly_ fun—”

“Hey.” They both turn at the sound of Sam’s voice, harried as ever. “Are you guys waiting for a cab or what?”

“You wanna split one to the airport?” Ruth asks.

“Sure.” Already looking like he’s beginning to regret the decision. “I mean, you know, I _can_ …”

“I need to wait for the others,” Jenny says, shaking her head.

“Okay,” Sam shrugs, nonplussed. “Have a good break.” He angles his head to the rank. “Ruth?”

She snaps to attention. “Oh, sure, sure.” She hugs Jenny a brief goodbye. “Enjoy the beach.”

“Enjoy the zoo,” her friend replies, still looking sympathetic. “I hope it goes quickly!”

Ruth slides onto the seat next to Sam, shaking her head as she buckles up. “Why the grin?” he asks, as the car pulls away.  

“Oh, nothing, nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“It’s just – Jenny’s reaction,” she explains. “Like she’d rather _die_ than go somewhere as provincial as Omaha.”

He considers this. “I mean I probably would,” he says

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not as boring as you think,” she starts to explain.

“Uh-huh.”  

“I’m serious! The aquarium is actually pretty _great_ , and—”

His mouth against hers stops the earnest pitch. She’s missed this too; it’s the only explanation for why she’s kissing him back greedily, despite the awkward presence of the cab driver.

“Sam—” she eventually manages, nose still bumping against his.  

“I know, I know.” He draws back slightly. Doing his best to look chastised even as his thumb traces the nape of her neck, something he knows is guaranteed to make her shiver. “Patience.”

It’s testing her own resolve, his caught with a hand in the cookie jar grin, undercut by the longing in his eyes. But they’re almost at the airport, and the chances of them being seen—

He steals another kiss, lightning fast, as they pull up. “Come on,” he says, “you’ve got a flight to catch, right?”

“Mm. My connection’s in LA.”

“What a co-incidence…”

They don’t sit together on the plane, which is probably just as well, and she loses sight of him through the terminal. It’s raining outside, the wind driving sheets against the doors. She shivers, still dressed for desert heat. Her raincoat is somewhere in storage.

Stepping outside she’s soaked to the skin in what feels like seconds; not at all sure if she should just find a cab without him or—

A shape detaches itself from the convenient lee of a doorway, glowing ember of his discarded cigarette immediately lost in the rain. “You ditching me already?”

“Oh,” she says, “no. I just couldn’t—”

“Relax, Ruth. I’m kidding. Kidding.” He holds out his hand, that anxious look in his eyes again. Never quite sure of she’ll take it or not.

She knits her fingers with his, and he raises his other arm to hail their next cab.

* * *

“Shit, shit, sorry,” he says, fumbling with his keys on the doorstep as the rain hammers down. “ _Here_ we go…”

They practically fall inside as the door finally opens. “Whew,” she says, as he knocks on the lights. “Definitely _not_ in Vegas anymore…” She smiles up at him, sopping wet; his glasses already beginning to fog. There is a moment of breathless shivering uncertainty, and then her bag hits the floor as she takes his worried face in both her hands. Lips pressed hard against his, water dripping into her eyes, and she doesn’t care; doesn’t care at all…

They don’t make it as far as the bedroom. Enough of their soaking clothes pushed down or pulled aside to fuck frantically on his sofa. Giddy with the freedom of no-one to come knocking on his door — to see her sneaking in or him sneaking out — or any of the dozen other ways they’ve almost been caught in the past few weeks.

Afterwards they lie together, rag-doll languid. A Cheshire cat smirk he can’t quite hide playing across his face. “Do you really have to go on Tuesday?”

“Yes,” she says firmly. “It’s the first time in… forever I can afford my own flight back. Anyway, won’t Justine be here?”

“Yeah, but, you know… if you’re sharing _my_ bed—”

“Sam…”

“What? We keep doing this, she’s going to have to find out sometime.”

“I know, but—”

“But?”

She kisses his neck and along the line of his jaw rather than answer straight away. “It’s just complicated, that’s all.”


End file.
